


Idle Worship

by honorablementioned



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 11:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorablementioned/pseuds/honorablementioned
Summary: Nigel wants to bite. He wants to nibble and chew and worry something, anything, against his teeth. He wants something bitter to hit the back of his throat and wants to chomp down on anything in reach, just to feel okay again.It’s one night with Adam, who had asked him so sweetly to have sex, that the idea occurs to him.--In which Adam nags Nigel to quit smoking.





	Idle Worship

Adam had brought this upon himself, honestly.

The constant reminders of what smoking could do to a person; the eighty-five percent chance that a smoker could develop lung cancer, how tar builds up in the lungs and creates plaque that cuts off your ability to breathe, how bronchitis will infect you more easily than any other sickness and won’t go away until you quit or make a drastic change in your consumption and didn’t Nigel know that a smoker’s cough damages your throat permanently?

And Nigel can admit it’s an addiction. It’s better than cocaine but just as hard to break, if not harder considering the accessibility of it. He picked the habit up at fourteen and hasn’t been able to kick the wonderful edge it gives him since. The shakiness he gets from going too long without a smoke is annoying, but it’s worth it for the satisfaction of finally inhaling the sweet nicotine when he does get the chance.

But Adam – sweet, worried, blunt Adam – reminds him every day of the effects. Between tidbits about the constellations and kissing him silly, he always finds time to nag Nigel.

So Nigel tries. He cuts back to one pack a day, and after awhile that turns into half a pack. He smells less like smoke and more like mint fresh gum and the skin sensitive detergent that Adam insists on using. 

His oral fixation is more trouble than it’s worth. Sure, nicotine has been his clutch for years, but that constant presence has now made him yearn for something to replace it with. 

Regardless of the progress, the process is still hard. Nigel doesn’t know what to do with himself without a cigarette in his hand, the weight in his mouth, so he fidgets. The gum only works for so long before it makes his jaw ache and the flavor fades too fast for his liking. He resists munching on snacks, both for a lack of actual hunger and for not wanting to ruin his appetite so he can still share meals with Adam, who insists having them together at seven fifteen in the morning, noon, and five in the evening.

But Nigel wants to bite. He wants to nibble and chew and worry something, anything, against his teeth. He wants something bitter to hit the back of his throat and wants to chomp down on anything in reach, just to feel okay again.

It’s one night with Adam, who had asked him so sweetly to have sex, that the idea occurs to him.

He’s only had three cigarettes today by the time they hit the bedroom. Nigel’s frustration courses through his system, seeps out of his pores from how heavy it casts its aura. The angel on the sheets only makes him more alert, more aware of how pent up he actually is, and he takes him time helping Adam come apart with his hands and mouth. His attention zeros in on Adam – adorable, enticing, moaning Adam – and Nigel makes sure to make the man squirm and squeal and whimper as best he can.

The idea blooms further with each inch he trails. The flavor on his tongue bursts like the big bang, the very essence of Adam overwhelms him. Nigel doesn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this sooner – they don’t do it often, too heated for foreplay and too focused on the simmering orgasm, most likely – but the urge to turn the boy on his stomach and seal his mouth over the quivering opening was just too much tonight. His tongue presses and spears and laps at the muscle, forcing it past the contractions and relishing the musk and the soap that lingers on Adam’s skin.

Nigel keeps an arm over Adam’s lower back to stop him from thrashing. It’s almost on the side of too much for his angel, making him oversensitive with each swipe of his tongue. The first time they had done this, Nigel had heard Adam state the unhygienic principles of this act, and how spit isn’t made to be lubricant because of its thin properties to help soften food, but Nigel had persisted. He had asked, _Just for me, angel, please? I want to._ And Adam had agreed to try it.

Trying it resulted in Adam riding Nigel’s face until he came, his sweet boy huffing out labored breaths and gripping Nigel’s hair to the point of pain. He enjoyed it, still enjoys it, and Nigel thinks he can kill two birds with one stone with this idea.

His mouth seals itself over Adam’s opening and Nigel puts his all into eating out his boy. He works his jaw against the underside, teases the perineum with his chin and gives open, sucking kisses to Adam’s most sensitive place. His angel cries out with each passing second, gripping the pillow beneath his head and chants _Nigel Nigel Nigel_ as he rocks back onto Nigel’s face. 

This isn’t about getting off for Nigel, not necessarily. His frustration from earlier is easing away with every lick and press of his tongue against the wrinkled hole. Saliva and pre-cum drip down and coats Adam’s thighs, Nigel’s chin and cheeks. The noises keep coming – squelches and vibrating moans from Nigel send even more shocks through Adam, who can’t keep his eyes open, who tries to keep pushing back into Nigel’s working mouth. Nigel, good Lord, can’t help but try and go deeper. He uses his free hand to spread Adam further. He digs two fingers into Adam’s opening and forces it wider. Nigel’s teeth almost dig into Adam’s sensitive rim from the pressure of it all.

The clenching hole spasms around Nigel’s tongue and fingers, and the thighs underneath him shake and tremble. Nigel assumes Adam came, but he doesn’t stop mouthing at the puffy opening. It’s only when Adam whines high and tries to push Nigel off that he pulls back, giving the abused rim a few more moments of teething and kissing and sucking. 

His own erection is flagged now. Nigel doesn’t feel like it’s a loss, because it certainly feels like he got off anyway, even if there’s no evidence to show for it. The nagging urge for a smoke is gone from his mind for the moment, replaced by a sated thrumming in his bones.

Adam, however, is a mess of limbs and tears on the bed beneath him. He doesn’t follow Nigel to the bathroom and only whines when he feels the press of a warm washcloth on his backside moments later. 

“I think I found a new addiction,” Nigel says, giving a nip at Adam’s shoulder.

Adam brought this upon himself, honestly.


End file.
